


A Song You Might Hear At A Wedding

by ellievolia, lanyon



Category: Captain America (2011), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: AU: Rockstars-in-waiting, Established Relationship, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-19
Updated: 2012-05-19
Packaged: 2017-11-05 15:55:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/408259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellievolia/pseuds/ellievolia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanyon/pseuds/lanyon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers is the good-looking lead singer of a struggling band, while James Barnes is half of a dynamic duo, on the verge of the big-time. When Stark Industries is reduced to playing at a wedding in order to raise funds and profile, Steve tells himself that this is the very last time he's going to sleep with Bucky.</p><p>(Or, the one in which Tony rants, Bruce mediates and Clint has fantastic eye-sex with the best man.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Song You Might Hear At A Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> +The title is from Jon McLaughlin's song of the same name.  
> +Thanks to Twitter and all the encouragement from Neve & Sarah & everyone.

****

**RUSSIAN ROULETTE: Five Minutes With James Barnes**

_Interviews with the lead singer of Red Room are notoriously unpredictable, with this mercurial musician’s moods swinging wildly from uncommunicative to outright gregarious. This reporter had the good fortune to encounter Barnes in rare expansive form._

_His band, one of the most popular in the United States, are co-headlining a tour with long-time rivals, Stark Industries, and, last night, they came home to Brooklyn. The highlight of the concert, for many, was when Steve Rogers, lead singer of Stark Industries, joined the formidable pair of Barnes and Natasha Romanov to sing David Bowie’s_ Let’s Dance _. (This reporter didn’t hear what Stark Industries’ de facto leader, Tony Stark, had to say about it but chances are that it wasn’t complimentary, given that the tensions between Stark and Red Room are legendary and the stuff that rockstar myths are made of.)_

 _Barnes was born in Brooklyn but his formative years were spent in Russia, where he met Romanov. Sparks flew and, when they were teenagers, they formed Red Room. Though the line-up changes regularly and Barnes and Romanov prefer to employ session musicians, they remain at the core of the band. Their debut album,_ The Winter Soldier _was an overnight success and the follow-up, entitled_ Widowed _has received promising pre-release reviews._

_So, what is it that makes Red Room sing?_

_Barnes shrugs and lights a cigarette. This reporter is relatively certain he’s breaking New York State Laws but Barnes has never struck one as being anything other than the sort of rockstar to live on the edge. “Same thing that makes everyone else sing, man. Railing against injustices, being too fucking smart for our own good and, I dunno, true love. That’s gotta be there, right?”_

_And the reports that Romanov and Barnes have more than a professional partnership?_

_“Aw, don’t get me wrong. Nat is hot, and I mean totally smoking but, no. We, uh, got our own paths to follow.”_

_There are rumours that he’s been known to play the field, batting for both teams, so to speak. That makes Barnes sit up and he points at this reporter with his cigarette. “You mean, am I bisexual?” He grins. “Yeah, I guess that’s the word for it. But I’ve been with my man for, like, two years now so that’s all academic, right?”_

_You heard it here first, folks. (And, no, James Barnes has never thrown a television out of a hotel window, with that manner of outburst reserved for Stark Industries’ enigmatic drummer, Bruce Banner.)_

_Red Room and Stark Industries play May 27, 28, 29 in Manhattan. SOLD OUT  
Stark Industries’ second studio album is due for release in September, provisionally titled ‘JERICHO’.  
_

 

\----

 

“ _We can't._ " 

"See, you're saying no, but this gorgeous, big body of yours is saying yes, yes, yes." The last _yes_ is a moan, or a sigh, or something that makes Steve's insides, and his resolve, melt away. 

Steve's hands are clamped tight on Bucky's hips, his head tilted away while his eyelids shiver shut. "I swear to god, Bucky, if you give me a hickey, I'm telling the bride." 

"I think it's Tony you need to worry about," says Bucky, and now he leans back a little, looking at Steve through narrowed eyes, his full lips swollen further by fervent kisses. "He doesn't like me very much." 

"He thinks you're trying to poach me for Red Room," says Steve, his fingers digging into Bucky's sides, hard enough to hurt.

"Don't be daft," says Bucky. He dips his head and looks up at Steve from under his eyelashes. "We have _me_. We have all the frontman we _need_." 

He licks his lips and Steve leans in to kiss him, though he's not supposed to, though he said that last time was the _last time_ , though Tony will actually string him up if he finds out. Tony has this thing about Red Room, or maybe it's a thing about Bucky, but it's definitely a thing about Steve sleeping with Bucky. _Sleeping with the enemy_ , he calls it, when he's feeling dramatic (or _being the enemy's fucking groupie_ , when he's feeling particularly spiteful).

Steve can feel Bucky's lips curving into a smile under his mouth and then there's an almighty bang on the door of the men's room and Clint's voice rings out. "I swear to god if you're throwing up because you scarfed all that free champagne, I'm going to end you, Rogers. Get your fucking game face on. First dance is in five." 

Steve's gaze darts towards Bucky and Bucky has the front to pout. "How important is a first dance, really?" he asks and Steve can only laugh. 

"Sometimes, I really hate you, you punk," he says and he pulls Bucky closer by the tie. 

"I swear to fuck, Rogers, if you're banging the help, we're not going to get our cover!"

This has Steve biting his lip hard to keep from laughing, Bucky snorting softly into Steve's neck and the two of them are pressed way too close in the tiny stall, trying to keep their laughter quiet. Steve tilts his head back against the wall, closing his eyes as he tries his best to sober up. If only Clint _knew_. "I'll be out in a minute, Barton!"

"You've got four." Clint mutters something about not having had nearly enough alcohol for this before the door bangs closed behind him and Steve sags a little, nosing around Bucky's temple, lips dragging against skin before he pushes himself off the wall, moving Bucky with him.

"Got to go. We don't want Tony even madder."

Bucky makes a low noise under his breath, something in between _couldn't care less_ and _want to see you perform,_ which is enough to make Steve lunge in and steal another kiss from Bucky before trying again to place actual distance between them. It's mostly Tony that has issues with Red Room (and with Bucky in particular), but it's no reason to fuck up their first paying gig in a while. When Steve pulls back, he takes a second to make sure Bucky is properly disheveled. His tie is askew and his hair is everywhere. His lips are swollen red, with stubble burn around them. It’s just right, and Bucky knows it, because he smirks at Steve, raising one eyebrow.

"No, Buck. Be good."

It's like a red rag to a bull. When he emerges, three minutes later, having implored Bucky to count to, like, a thousand before he leaves, Steve is sporting a large bruise on the side of his neck. He's pretty sure that Bucky's dental records could be reconstructed from it and he tugs awkwardly at his shirt collar when he goes out to Clint, who's doing some crazy-ass lunges in the anteroom in preparation.

Tony's got his bass and he's not looking at Steve, which is the best indication that he's really, really pissed with him. Bruce is in some kind of yoga pose in the corner and Steve rests his forehead against the wall and they listen as the best man or someone announces the band and Stark Industries is a really stupid band-name but no one had the strength or sobriety to argue with Tony when he suggested it.

Steve sighs but raises his chin and leads the way out onto the small stage, erected at the far end of the ballroom. There's applause because wedding guests are better trained than most of the crowds Stark Industries plays to and this is what they've been reduced to.

Steve wonders if Bucky's made it to a thousand, yet, and Clint plugs in his guitar and Steve steps up to the mic and the first song, requested by the happy couple, is _I Can't Help Falling In Love With You_ , which is so far off their usual fair that they've actually enjoyed rehearsing it.

Steve, if he's honest, has to admit that he likes weddings. There's something so naive and dreamlike about them, that it reminds Steve of being a kid, and he enjoys that. He enjoys people being in love and he’s pretty sure that it's rare enough these days. He doesn't even mind that it's Natasha that got them the gig, even though it made Tony rage ( _not cool, we're better than weddings_ ). Their band funding disagreed with that statement, and so did the rest of them, so that settled it: Stark Industries were playing the Dugan wedding. 

Steve can see Natasha from the stage, sitting next to Bucky in a red dress that looks painted on, with her hair pinned up and her lips crooked into what Steve has to think is her smile (he's not sure, never having seen it before). She's watching the newlyweds dance, lost in each other, while Bucky's looking at Steve, a challenge in his eyes that makes heat rise in Steve's face. Bastard.

 

When the first dance is done, Stark Industries launch into _I Was Made For Loving You_ and a crowd gathers around the newlyweds, awkward uncles and drunk aunts and laughing friends all dancing in a mess of bodies and Steve loses track of both Bucky and Natasha. He throws a look at Clint, who's staring intently at someone. Steve tracks the look to a guy in a tux with receding hair and kind eyes, a bit older than the lot of them and it’s unexpected, to say the least. Clint’s crushes tend to get messy and Steve isn't really sure if he’s over Natasha yet.  
It's the million dollar question. Clint and Natasha have been on-again off-again for longer than Steve and Bucky have been a thing (a thing no one talks about) but Steve thinks that, maybe, they're actually off for good. Either way, Clint's staring is becoming a little creepy and so Steve leans closer the mic and says, "I'm going to hand singing duties over to our lead guitarist. Mr Clint Barton, everyone!"

He steps aside to let Clint move to the mic-stand and, next thing he knows, Tony is shoulder-to-shoulder with him.

"Dude, what's with vintage meat at eleven o'clock?"

"Tony, don't be unkind-"

"Don't be unkind? My god, Rogers. If it wasn't for your fucking _predilections_ , I'd say you were going for _sainthood_." There's a pause and Tony's pauses are always dramatic. "Who _were_ you banging in the men's room, anyway?"

Steve opens his mouth, closes it again. This is definitely not the time to get into it with Tony; they're still on stage. It’s a _wedding._

"No one." 

"Pants on fire." 

"Oh, that's mature, Tony."

Clint throws them a hard look from his spot at the mic, fingers fluttering over the frets of his guitar, and it's warning enough for Steve to step away. They have another five songs to go through before a break, and then another hour to play before being replaced by some DJ. 

Steve thinks they might make it without any further bickering but then Bucky materialises from the crowd and comes to stand in front of stage left, where Steve has moved. It's too much to hope that Tony hasn't seen him although Steve has come to understand that Bucky doesn't draw everyone's gaze the way he does Steve's. Clint is getting stuck into _Don't Stop Believing_ and Steve's kind of on autopilot because his throat is dry and the side of his neck is itchy, where he knows Tony is glaring (where he knows Bucky's bruise is so obvious). 

He looks straight ahead and Bucky is smiling and biting his lower lip like he knows how much trouble Steve's going to be in. Steve chances a look at Tony and Tony's holding his bass like a goddamned weapon of mass destruction and Steve's holding his guitar like a shield and, one of these nights, they're gonna break up because of musical differences. 

The wedding guests love them, though, and they love Clint and sometimes Steve thinks that Clint would be a better frontman than he is but Tony's said they can't let Steve's pretty face go to waste, even though Steve knows his pretty face is flaming red because Tony's put two and two together and he knows just what Steve was doing in the men's room.

Steve goes back to the mic-stand and they launch into a rocked-up version of _Three Times A Lady_ that has the groom throwing the bride around the dancefloor in moves that have to be choreographed and Steve can see Natasha enticing the best man onto the dance floor, too, and he doesn't need to look to see Clint's scowl. 

The old guy can move, though, and Steve feels instantly remorseful for thinking of him as such. He's likely just a little older, that's all, and he's pretty handsome and Steve needs to concentrate on the song and not on the tangled dynamics that his band always seems to land itself in, like a goddamned spider web. Tony already refers to Natasha as a black widow and Steve'd rather not add to the metaphor (though he wonders if that makes Bucky a tarantula or something and the song ends and Tony steps closer and tells him to stop fucking phoning it in and to sing it with some fucking feeling and they switch to _Somebody To Love_ and that's more like it).

They get through the first half of their set without any further incidents, surprisingly enough. Steve has come to expect exploding amps and broken guitars, on-stage fisticuffs and insults thrown at each other every time something goes awry. It’s why nobody ever believed they'd last. That, and the fact that they can't stick to one name, changing every six months. In truth, though; in God’s honest _truth_ , Steve wouldn't have it any differently. These guys on stage are his best friends, despite the arguments and the near-constant bickering. It's just how they show they love each other and that goes a long way for people like Clint and Tony. And Bruce? Well, Bruce is a yoga sensei, keeping the peace; it's probably thanks to him that they haven't imploded yet. He’s got this ability to calm Tony down with a few words and looks and he’s got the right soothing touch to bring Clint off the edge and he knows how to promise sparring and meditation to Steve so that he’ll give up a fight. They're easy to bribe and Bruce knows it perfectly well.

Steve knows, or he hopes, that Tony bitches about Bucky because he cares, because he thinks Steve will leave, or because he's certain Bucky will break Steve's heart. Steve appreciates it, but it’s completely unnecessary. He knows that Bucky doesn't want Steve to join Red Room. Bucky and Natasha have a great thing going. Steve just wishes Tony would just let it go. This has been going on for months, and if Bucky really is trying to sabotage them (he doesn't have to, since they _never_ win Battles anyway, especially not against Red Room, which is why Red Room are heading towards an album deal, and Stark Industries are playing at weddings), he'd have done it already.

"Steve, you have to stop. I mean, it's obvious he's trying to sabotage us-" 

"Are you seriously this paranoid, man?" asks Clint, slowly warming to the topic at hand.

"Wait, are you trying to say that somehow Barnes wrangled an invite to the wedding, just to mess with your head?" asks Bruce and he always gets to the point of the matter, laying open the inherent absurdity of Tony's brain's inner workings.

" _Enough,_ " says Steve and they shut up in an instant (and if he stopped to think, maybe this is why he's the lead singer). "It's a coincidence, nothing more, and I'm damned well not going to apologise for my personal life, Tony."

Tony's response is cold. "When your personal life interferes with my band, you're damned well sure I'm gonna get that apology, Rogers." 

There's a knock on the door and the best man enters, followed by a waiter, carrying a tray.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," says the man. His voice is soft but compelling and Steve doesn't miss how Clint's eyes grow round, like saucers. 

"The bride and groom would like you to have this, with their compliments." He gestures at the tray, laden down with a bottle of champagne and four glasses.

Clint's smile is dazzling. "Thank you." Clint pauses, stepping closer, and the best man smiles at him indulgently, like he's used to this exact kind of attention, which (no offence to the man), is not something Steve would expect.

"Phil. Coulson," he says to Clint, offering his hand, which Clint is all too happy to grab and shake with both of his, which makes Steve roll his eyes warmly. Clint should not get laid as often as he does with these techniques.

Coulson shakes hands with the rest of them and, luckily, Tony is polite enough not to get into Steve's face in front of a stranger, but he's not polite enough to stay quiet about Bucky.

"So, Phil, does James Barnes know the groom or bride? He's a friend of ours." 

Coulson, granted, doesn't look phased for a second. He probably works for the Government or something.

"Oh, you mean Bucky? Dum Dum - that's the groom - has known him for ages. They're good friends."

Steve can't help the "Ah!" that follows this revelation, throwing a pointed look towards Tony. "I hope the bride and groom are enjoying themselves," he says, diplomatically, as the waiter opens the champagne and Steve mostly hopes that Tony doesn't decide just to fuck it all and drink it straight from the bottle.

"Oh yes," says Phil, who seems entirely unperturbed that Stark Industries' guitarist is hanging on his every word (and it works, Steve reminds himself; it always works). "The happiest day of their lives seems to be running very much to plan."

Steve's not surprised that this man has a plan; he looks the sort, composed and collected and so far from Clint's usual type that this could actually get kind of interesting. 

"I know those feels, bro," says Clint and Phil's expression changes only slightly but he might be amused.

"The internet called,” says Phil. “It wants its meme back.” He offers them all a smile. "We'll see you back onstage in thirty minutes?" 

He lets himself out, followed by the waiter, and Clint leans against the door, a rapturous smile on his face. "He knows about the internet." 

"Clint? Dude? Snap out of it," says Tony. "What the fuck is it about guitarists and raging libidos?" 

Bruce laughs. It's a rare enough sound that they all turn to look at him and he looks back, wide-eyed. "Oh, come on. Pot, kettle, libido? That's hilarious."

Tony flips him off, but doesn't reply with another scathing remark, which Steve will take as a win. He desperately wants the topic to be changed, although Clint’s libido isn’t his favoured subject, it’ll do at a pinch. It's been five months since he and Bucky started this thing, whatever it is, and, for five months, Tony has been nothing but pissy about it. If Steve didn't like Bucky as much as he does, he'd break things off just to stop Tony from whinging all the time.

But, truth is, Steve really likes Bucky. He also really likes Tony, so as the group winds down, champagne flutes in hand, Steve sits by Tony, bumping their knees together. So much for changing the subject but never let it be said that Steve Rogers backs down from a fight.

"Bucky and I are not interfering with the band, Tony. He doesn't want me in his band. Could you, possibly, get your head out of your ass and let me live my life for a while?"

Tony sighs, drinking half of his champagne before smacking his lips together. "How can you be so sure he's not trying to sabotage us?" 

"Why would he? Red Room are well on their way to hitting it big, all on their own."

It's possible that's not the right thing to say to Tony but Steve doesn't really have time to apologise when the door's pushed open and Bucky steps in. His eyes lock on Steve's with disconcerting speed and Steve sudden finds it hard to swallow and maybe to breathe.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Barnes?"

"Tony," says Steve and he stands up. He feels pretty exhausted, all of a sudden, and it may be the champagne or it may be the fact that there is no end in sight to this ridiculousness. "Why're you here, Bucky?"

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "I love you too, sweetheart," and it's wrong that Steve's heart lurches in his chest because Bucky says it so lightly, that it might be any nicety. 

"Untwist your panties, Stark. I'm not here to steal Rogers away from you." His lips curve into a smirk. "Not for the band, anyway." 

He looks Steve up and down and it shouldn't make Steve's insides shiver. "I'm here 'cause Dum Dum wants me to sing a goddamned song with you guys. I told him I don't work with second-rate musicians but it's his special day, yadda-yadda-yadda."

"Second-rate -" Clint stops Tony from moving forward, a hand on his chest, a hard look in his eyes. Fights at weddings happen all the time, but again, Steve can't help but think about their future and he really doesn't want to have to start busking. It's bad enough that he can't quit his job at Starbucks, and that Clint has to work security at Target. 

Tony seems to deflate, and Steve turns back to Bucky, feeling like punching the smirk off his lips himself. He can be such an asshole sometimes.

"What song were you thinking of?" Bruce asks from his seat, twirling his empty champagne flute between his fingers. 

" _Take My Breath Away_ ," Bucky says without a second of hesitation, and even Steve snorts, a chorus of chuckles behind him from the other members of the band. Bucky's not laughing. 

"You're not serious." 

"Oh, I'm serious. Dum Dum was in the Air Force."

"Oh god," says Steve. "You are actually trying to sabotage us." He holds up his hands. "Guys, I'm sorry. I should've listened - "

Bucky scowls at Steve. "Can it, buddy. I'm not trying to sabotage you. I'm trying to do a favour for an old friend here." He tilts his head to the side and now he's looking at Tony, his eyelids half-closed and all-challenge.

"But if you don't think you're up to it-" 

"I'll show you up to it," says Tony and Clint's hand tightens in Tony's shirt.

"Stark! Calm the fuck down. We can do this. Easy as. One song, that's all, and then Barnes is gonna fuck off and let us get back to the rest of our set, right?" Clint looks at Bucky and Bucky smiles and shrugs, all innocence.

"Of course," he says. "I don't want to steal your thunder -"

For a moment, Steve wonders what would happen if he just walked out. Walked out and didn't come back. It's tempting. Instead, he reaches out and grips Bucky's shoulder. 

"Please," he says, softly. "Be nice."

He expects Bucky to scoff or to twist away and make some snide remark and when he does, Steve won't stop Tony from jumping him. Instead, Bucky nods and he doesn't look away from Steve. "Of course, Rogers," he says and then he looks over Steve's shoulder. "Anything for _you_.”

It's pointed and there's some point there that Steve can't quite grasp but it's truce enough for him. He squeezes Bucky's shoulder. "Thank you." 

Impulsively, he dips his head and kisses Bucky's cheek. Clint makes vomiting sounds behind him but Bucky's fingers are in Steve's hair and Steve really doesn't care about anything else.

Steve wants nothing more than for Bucky to press closer, for them to kiss again, the way they were kissing earlier and it takes an enormous amount of self-control for him to let go and to pull back, and to turn towards his bandmates. Along with Bucky, they sit down and talk mechanics and cues and keys, keeping it professional. Even Tony's behaving, because he doesn't fuck around with his music. His pride won’t let him be anything less than extraordinary and if they have to do this and play this terrible song, they will, and they will rock it.

When they're done and happy with the arrangements, Tony stalks off outside, probably for a cigarette, and Clint and Bruce follow him. Steve rolls his eyes at their subtlety but he's alone with Bucky, so it’s not like he's not going to complain.

"Please tell me singing this song is destroying a bit of your soul too, Buck." 

Bucky chuckles, leaning close, chin resting on Steve's shoulder. "If I had a soul." 

Steve turns his head to Bucky, sighing softly. There's not enough alcohol in the world. 

Bucky smiles. "Yes, it is hurting me to the very core of my cold, cold heart, Steve. Just like Tony's non-existent robot heart." 

"Well, if you weren't an asshole to him, there might be a chance you guys could get along."

That makes Bucky laugh and he rubs his chin over Steve's shoulder. "Maybe if he'd stop being an asshole to _me_ , I'd think about not being an asshole to _him_."

Steve sighs and turns his head so his lips touch Bucky's and it's times like this that his heart does stupid flip-flop things in his chest and he thinks there's more to this than quick fucks in the men's room, or backstage at Red Room gigs or that memorable time in the rented tour-bus that belonged to another band entirely.

"He thinks you started it," says Steve, quietly, almost muffled against Bucky's mouth.

"He started it," says Bucky. He's being contrary but he's smiling. "He hired a hot lead singer. 's not my fault I just want to -" He interrupts himself by kissing Steve, his hand on Steve's hip, clenching and loosening rhythmically. He pulls back just as abruptly. "Shit, I can't -"

Steve stomach plummets. He's been expecting Bucky to drop him, any day now. Red Room are so close to the big-time that Bucky'll have his pick of groupies. Bucky laughs and rests his forehead on Steve's shoulder. 

"I can't go out there and sing with a huge boner and we definitely don’t have enough time to take care of it the fun way so I'm gonna go stand over by the window and you're gonna keep that mouth to yourself, okay?" 

Steve nods, dumbly, resting his hands on his lap. He's been wrong-footed so many times already this evening that he thinks it's probably wisest if he just sits still till it's time for them to go back onstage again. 

"Don't pout, Stevie," says Bucky, his hand trailing over Steve's cheek, neck, shoulder as he stands up and walks away. "I've got a room upstairs and as soon as your set is over, I'm bringing you there, k?"

"Abandoning your date?" 

Bucky raises an eyebrow at him as he perches himself on the windowsill. Okay, so, sometimes, Steve is just as subtle as his bandmates, but maybe that's part of their success, or their perseverance, or something. 

"What date?" 

"Natasha. You do know everybody assumes you two are together," Steve replies, feeling his face grow hotter. If he wasn't exactly who he is, he'd have said fucking, and Bucky knows it.

He grins. "Are you part of that 'everybody'?" 

"Should I be?"

"Answering a question with a question is bad form, Steve," Bucky replies, and Steve looks away, trying not to feel too humiliated by the whole conversation. Oh, to have a shovel right now. The hole he'd dig would be both beautiful and spacious. 

"Look, I love Nat, she's brilliant, and beautiful, and smart, and she's my best friend. But I'm not fucking her. These days I spend too much time thinking about a certain big, broad lead singer of a shitty band and what he does to me to even want to fuck her. You’ve ruined me for hot Russian chicks."

And of course, of course this is exactly when the others decide to walk back inside the room. Steve has his mouth open, but closes it audibly as Clint looks between the two of them. "Well, that’s the most backwards thing I've ever heard in my life."

Steve knows that he's blushing crimson and Tony's looking speculative, which is never a good sign. Before Steve can object or jump to some ill-timed defence of Bucky and/or Russian women, Clint smiles brightly.

"Suit up, kids. We're up."

It's like he walks back onstage on autopilot and Bucky slips an arm around him briefly as he passes; a sort of drive-by hug as he steps up to the mic while Steve picks up his guitar.

"We're gonna change the pace of things now, folks," says Bucky, lips brushing the mic in a way that's positively obscene (or perhaps that's just Steve). "Stark Industries have been kind enough to let me crash their party. Dum Dum? This one's for you, baby."

Bruce counts them in with his drumsticks and Steve's standing with Tony, who's kind of wired and totally determined and that's the best Steve could have hoped for. Steve can't be held accountable if his eyes drift shut when Bucky starts singing, the whole song transposed down a little to fit his range, and Tony's bass driving the whole thing, throbbing in Steve's blood like this is how it's supposed to be, and the dancefloor fills up in record time and Dum Dum and his Air Force buddies are howling with laughter.

Clint is laughing and it's obvious he's having fun, and not just because he’s resumed his eye-fucking of the best man. 

Which, apparently, is going both ways now. Phil is standing at the edge of the dancefloor, looking straight at Clint, his eyes dark. Steve pointedly looks away, feeling like he's intruding on something completely private and intimate.

So instead he walks over to the mic stand, leaning into Bucky's space to sing the chorus along with him, and Bucky grins, pulls him in closer, the two of them sharing the mic, their cheeks pressed against each other as they sing, Bucky's eyes closed, his stupid pretty eyelashes looking incredibly long in the stage lights. Steve has scarcely wanted to be off stage as much as he does right now, wanting nothing more than to be upstairs in Bucky's room, and to be able to taste Bucky again. 

Fuck, fuck, he needs to stay professional.

The song seems to last for-fucking-ever, because Steve can't get out of Bucky's grip now, and he can't do any of the things he really want to do to him; and that's proof that they couldn't be in the same band, anyway, not when Steve can't even enjoy making sweet sweet music with Bucky because he wants all the nakedness and the rutting so much more. Tony might even understand that or he might be even more horrified but it’s always hard to tell with Tony.

Steve is kind of lost. It's _Take My Breath Away_ , which ranks up there as, like, the second-cheesiest song in the history of cheesy songs and Steve is barely functional though he's playing the right chords and singing the right words and all he wants to do is drop on his knees in front of Bucky.

Bucky probably knows it, too. The song ends with a flourish and Bucky thanks them and exchanges a fistbump with Clint, which makes Tony glower all over again, and then Steve has an idea and it's a wedding and it's the most ridiculous song but it's one they've covered before because Bruce lost a bet and Clint was drunk and Steve starts singing and it's _Hero_ and it's fucking Enrique Iglesias and they're going to cement themselves into history as nothing more than a mediocre wedding band but Clint's nodding with approval and Bruce is miming having a seizure or something and Tony. Well, Tony's rolling his eyes but he's playing along, though there's something a little nervous in the way he's standing and Steve needs Tony to know that they're not going to lose him to Red Room, though they may lose him to Bucky, from time to time.

The best part, the absolute best part, is when Bucky stops dead in the middle of the dance floor and turns around, realisation and recognition dawning on his face and he mouths the word _really?_ to Steve but he's grinning, and it's the most honest expression Steve has seen on Bucky's face all evening.

Steve finds himself clinging to the mic-stand for support and it's a good thing they don't need him playing any guitar right now, because his fingers are numb and he's singing almost on auto-pilot, right at Bucky, staring at him like if he loses sight of him he'll lose sight completely. 

Fuck, it's daft, and it's horrific, and, somehow, Bucky's still grinning and looking at Steve, and then he starts mouthing the words back as Steve sings them, one eyebrow cocked in challenge. Fuck, Red Room will never need Steve. Not when they’ve got James Buchanan Barnes front and centre.

When their set is done, Steve will corner Tony and tell him there is no way he'd go anywhere, even if Bucky asked, or tried. Steve loves his band, and he's naive and hopeful enough to believe that his relationship with Bucky can cohabit with Stark Industries. It'll have to.

And after that, he'll leave the others to get drunk and be merry with wedding party, while he finds Bucky so that Bucky can fuck him into the mattress. Bastard is still singing the words back at Steve, like the world is nothing but the two of them right now, like that song actually means something more than lazy songwriting.

Steve’s pretty sure that he others can see it, too. Clint has called a time-out in his bid to seduce Coulson from a distance (but he's always been so good at long-range eliminations) and Tony's eyes are drilling into the side of Steve's head and Bruce is probably counting down the bars until this atrocity is over but they can all see that Steve is fixated, obsessed and he loosens his collar, just a little.

It's kind of surprising when Natasha appears out of the throng and she rolls her eyes and whispers something into Bucky's ear but Bucky's not looking away and Steve's not a fucking teenager and he knows that Tony sometimes says he's too fucking naive for his own good.

This is the single sappiest, most laughable thing Steve has ever done and he knows that Clint approves because it's what _he'd_ do in this situation and, somehow, Steve manages to let go of the mic-stand and Tony tells him to pick up his goddamned guitar because they're going to play some good stuff now.

Steve is dazed but he does what he's told.

Bucky disappears with Natasha, probably to raid the bar, and Steve slowly, but surely, regains his focus, his fingers not stuttering over the frets anymore, his voice sure and steady and fluid again. And he's having a good time, a really, really good time, despite the fact they're playing at a wedding and they're not even paid that much for it. But it goes well, like the first half of the set, and that's good enough for Steve.

They finish their set with a rendition of Don't Stop Me Now, which is cheeky and just the way Tony likes it. Steve and Clint sing together, grinning at each other as they give their last song their all, belting out the lyrics and watching the crowd jump around, singing right back. It's exhilarating, and, funnily enough, doesn't happen in Battles of the Bands, where the crowds are 90% bored hipsters and 10% family members  
They bow down to a storm of applause and Steve and Tony share a smile, a look that says maybe this isn't that bad, and, at last, they're laughing as they tumble off stage.

Steve's breathless again and it's kind of like the asthma he had when he was a kid, where his chest tightens and now that it's quiet, he can stop to think.

"Cheers, boys." Steve isn’t expecting to see Natasha in the green room, with Bucky and with another woman. They've all got champagne so Steve has to assume the bar raid was highly successful.

"That was a very impressive show, all told," says the woman. She stands up and holds out a hand to Clint. "My name is Pepper Potts. Natasha's told me a lot about Stark Industries and I don't mind saying that I'm intrigued. In spite of the rather ... _unorthodox_ set."

"It's always nice to meet new fans," says Tony and he's got that look on his face. Steve knows it too well. It's the look that Tony gets when he's about to seduce some innocent journalist into giving them an extra star in a review. Steve thinks that Tony might have his hands full if he tries that tactic with Ms Potts.

 

"She's not a fan," says Bucky, as though the very idea is laughable. "She is an exec at Arc Reactor Records, though." He pauses and then says, deliberately. “Who knew, right?”

Pepper's looking at Tony and there's this amused expression on her face, like she knows just what she's getting into. "Ms Romanov tells me you've got a fresh sound and invited me along to listen to you guys this evening."

Vaguely, Steve wonders what the bride and groom would think about talent spotting at their wedding but, then again, he remembers how Coulson was eyeing up Clint so this wedding’s already got previous. He's drifted closer to Bucky and Bucky's hand closes around his wrist and maybe that tells Steve everything he needs to know.

"I'd like to hear your original stuff," says Pepper and Tony looks like he's just found religion; his mouth drops open and his eyes are sharp and almost disbelieving. 

"You can say thank you, Stark," says Bucky, his fingertips pressed against Steve's pulse.

Tony looks like a fish out of water for a moment, before he turns red, looks away. "Yeah, thanks," he says, almost inaudibly, but it still makes Steve grin like an idiot. This might, after all, work out.

"How about we set up a meeting? Do you have a demo with you?"

Bruce does because Bruce is always prepared, catastrophe or miracle, and he and Pepper Potts set up an appointment while Tony looks on like he wants to say something to her that will make her laugh and fall in love with him. Steve’s not sure how good his chances are but Tony’s nothing if not determined. Clint and Natasha are chatting in a corner of the room, and from the words Steve can catch, it's about Coulson and, God, his band are all ridiculous. (Apart from Bruce.)

Leaning closer to Bucky while the others are occupied, Steve whispers into his ear, "I want you to fuck me so much right now, Buck, you have no idea."

Yeah. His band is on the cusp of getting signed, or closer than they’ve ever been, and Steve will still defend his priorities till his dying day.

Bucky lets out a soft sigh, that's almost a whimper, and Steve knows he's the only one who can have heard it though Natasha's head turns quickly and she looks at them through narrowed eyes. Steve closes his own eyes; it's the only way to avoid that kind of scrutiny and he feels Bucky's breath, hot against his ear. He feels Bucky's teeth close briefly on his ear lobe.

Vaguely, he's aware of Tony. "Arc Reactor Records, huh? That's like ARR? God, how many times have you heard the pirate radio joke-? First time? No, you’re joking. Oh, you are joking." 

Steve really needs to get out of here and then Bucky's tugging on his wrist and they're out the door almost before Steve realises it.

"Do you have any _idea_?" asks Bucky, pressing Steve up against the wall, right next to the door. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" 

Steve can’t actually answer because Bucky's kissing him and it's what Steve's needed since the last time they kissed. It's what he's needed for the whole night. 

"You said something about a room," Steve says, once they break free to gasp for breath.

"Fuck, yes," Bucky replies in a gasp, resting his forehead against Steve's chin, breathing hard. For a second, Steve thinks they're going to stay here for a while longer, but Bucky grabs him by the wrist and start walking away, thankfully before any of Steve's bandmates come out. They quickly walk through a labyrinth of corridors before reaching a bank of lifts.

Inside the lift, they're accompanied by two old ladies, chattering away about bingo night and hair dye, and Steve and Bucky keep on throwing glances at each other. Steve watches as Bucky's hands clench and unclench at his sides, and he tries not to entertain notions of grabbing Bucky and rutting mindlessly against his leg. That story’d create quite the stir at bingo night and he’d bet these ladies haven’t heard of Red Room.

The lift doors have scarcely closed on the chattering women before Bucky's grabbing Steve's hand and hauling him down the corridor to his room. It takes him two goes to get the keycard to work and Steve wraps his arms around him from behind, pressing up against Bucky's back and laughing against his hair.

"Nice room," he says, mouthing at Bucky's neck and he can feel Bucky's laughter against his lips. 

"You're full of shit, Rogers." 

"No." Steve's words come out on a sigh. "Great view. I love a - " Bucky turns in his arms and Steve kisses the bridge of his nose and his upper lip and his cheek. "God, I love a room with a view." 

Bucky's hands are on Steve's ass and he's gripping hard enough to make Steve whimper.  
"Too. Much. Talking," Bucky says through gritted teeth once they're inside and grinding against each other in the middle of the room. Steve has to hold on to the dresser by their side to keep from stumbling too badly, and he ends up with Bucky practically climbing him as he leans back against it, head tilted back against the mirror. He's got Bucky's legs around his waist, and he’s holding him up, and they're kissing frantically, like it's all they can do to keep breathing, and honestly, this is all Steve needs to feel right now.

"Fuck, Bucky - _fuck_." He wants to say they need to move, and that there's a perfectly nice and serviceable bed right there, but Bucky is rocking his hips against Steve's, and he's making little desperate noises into Steve's mouth, and he's _so hard_ that Steve feels dizzy with want.

"Shh, off, off, c'mon," Bucky mutters against Steve's lips, pulling Steve's shirt up over his ribs, palms a little clammy against Steve's skin, but they feel perfect, setting Steve's skin on fire.

Steve shrugs out of his shirt and immediately turns his attention to Bucky's clothes and Bucky's jacket is the first casualty and Steve swears under his breath as he unknots Bucky's tie while Bucky laughs harshly.

"Didn't know you knew all those words, Stevey," he says, and he's trailing kisses and bites along Steve's collarbone and Steve growls and gives up and lowers his hands to Bucky's belt, instead.

Bucky laughs again; it's an addictive sound and is cut off sharply when Steve reaches into his pants and curls his hand around Bucky's cock. "Need this in me, Buck," says Steve. "'ve been thinking about you inside me since that stupid song."

Bucky lets out a groan, a low sound right against Steve's neck. "Steve, fuck, are you kidding me?" he asks softly, voice hoarse, like he can't wait for this, like he may not even make it to the bed.

Steve takes matters into his own hands, so to speak, grabbing Bucky's ass and hoisting him up, pushing himself off the dresser and walking the four steps to the bed, dropping Bucky on top of the comforter, earning a breathless giggle.

"If it's too much to fuck me, I can ride you."

"Oh god." Bucky licks his lips and he's looking at Steve like he's the second coming and his expression makes Steve's knees weaken. He has to lean against the bed so he doesn't falter or stumble and he pulls off Bucky's shoes and socks and drags his pants down.

"Is that a 'yes'?" Steve asks, looking down at Bucky, rather proud of how his voice scarcely wavers. He unbuttons his own pants and kicks them away, together with his shoes, and then he's on his knees on the bed, looking down at Bucky, his cock in his hand, standing to attention like a fucking soldier and Steve fights to suppress a full-body shudder. 

"If it's too much to fuck me," he says, again. "I can do all the work." He reaches down and places a kiss on the inside of one of Bucky's thighs and grazes his teeth lightly over Bucky's skin and Bucky moans and Steve has been a slave to the sound of Bucky's voice since the first time Tony brought him to a Red Room gig.

He's so committed to the task at hand, that he's taken aback when Bucky trails the knuckles of his other hand over Steve's cheek with something that might be tenderness. Steve grasps hold of Bucky’s hand and sucks his fingers, his cheeks hollowing and his eyes fixed on Bucky’s face.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Steve." Bucky's cheeks are red and his eyes are glazed and Steve wonders if he meant to say that but it doesn't matter because he's guiding Bucky's hand down between his legs and the immediate stretch burns almost intolerably and Steve is gasping with it and begging for more as he rocks down onto Bucky's fingers.

He licks his palm and wraps it around Bucky's cock and gasps out a warning, or maybe he laughs it out. "Don't come, Bucky. Don't come till you're in me."

"Won't." It sounds strained and Bucky swallows around the word, and when Steve smiles, it feels tight across his face, like his skin is too small for his body, and he wants _so much more_ already. He rolls his hips on Bucky's fingers, arching his back.  
Bucky touches him, his free hand traveling all over Steve's chest, like he can't get enough, and Steve can't get enough, grabbing Bucky's hand with his own, lacing their fingers together, and Bucky moans, thrusting his hips up into the air, just grazing Steve's stomach.

"Oh fuck, Steve, need to fuck you," Bucky moans, sounding absolutely desperate.

Steve doesn't know if it's the words or Bucky's tone and the way Bucky's voice is close to breaking, but he can't help it; he knows there are steps to follow, that he's meant to be safe, that Tony fucking Stark talked to him about safe sex when he learned that Steve and Bucky were sleeping together and that's a conversation Steve never wants to have again. It’s possible it was an elaborate cock-blocking maneouvre from Tony but it’s failed pretty spectacularly. Steve moves up the bed, straddling Bucky's hips, as he fumbles for the condom wrapper on Bucky's bedside table.

He flashes a grin. "Sure you were gonna get some tonight, Buck?" Steve pretends like that doesn't hurt. Bucky whines impatiently. 

"Heard there was a really hot singer in the band," he says, his voice strained as Steve rolls the condom onto him.

Steve's eyes flicker towards Bucky's with something like disbelief but he's raising himself up on his knees and then lowering himself down, his eyes fixed on Bucky's as Bucky's cock breaches him. Steve can barely breathe with the pressure and the pain but it is perfect. He tells himself that it is perfect as he schools his muscles to relax as best as he can.

Bucky is staring at Steve through heavy-lidded eyes, licking his lips every few seconds; the way he grips Steve's hips is sure to leave bruises, but Steve welcomes it all, wants the bruises there, and on his chest, and neck, and back, and anywhere Bucky cares to mark him. 

Steve rolls his hips backwards and forwards a few times, his own cock resting against the crease of his thigh, erection swelling slightly as the pain recedes. They find a rhythm when Bucky sits up, pressing himself closer and dragging his lips over Steve's skin like he can't have enough, like he's desperate for more. He’s trailing hot wet kisses down Steve's arm, across his collarbones and up his neck, leaving damp patches that make Steve shiver.

Steve reaches down to stroke himself and he gasps in Bucky's ear, "Thought I was gonna do all the work."

Bucky's laugh is more like a growl and he bites down on Steve's neck. "Shut up, Rogers." He’s sighing against Steve's skin and he drops his hand, lacing his fingers with Steve's, gripping firmly. "Never shut up, Steve," he says, in the very next breath and Steve whines into Bucky's hair, hooking his arm around Bucky's shoulders and keeping him close.

"Just like that, Bucky, yes." He pulls back to lick his lips and then Bucky's mouth is on his and Steve groans into the kiss and it's a pleading and desperate sound for Bucky never to stop.

Now, they're sharing breaths more than kissing and they’re moving together, closer and closer to losing it completely. Bucky's hands keep on moving over Steve's thighs and ass, digging his fingers in bunching muscles, little sparks of pain that exacerbate every other sensation, making Steve whimper and moan against Bucky's mouth. He's so close he can feel it in his blood, singing through him, and it sounds just the same as Bucky's voice in his head and it’s a choir of fucking angels.

"Oh fuck, _fuck_ ," Steve groans as he moves faster and faster over Bucky's lap, all sense of keeping a rhythm completely lost now, for all that they are musicians. They're too close and rushing headlong, decorum and etiquette sent flying out of the window as they grunt and rut and bite and fuck, sweaty skin sticking to sweaty skin and their breathing growing damp and shallow. "Fuck, gonna -"

"Yeah, c'mon, Steve, c'mon."

He could tell himself that it's not Bucky's voice that sends him over, that it's not the sheer _need_ he hears, or thinks he hears. He could tell himself that it is, instead, a purely physical reaction to Bucky's body, Bucky's hands, the press of one body slick-sliding against another body and the sensation of Bucky filling him so completely. It would be a lie. It's Bucky's voice; it's the plea and Steve cannot deny him and his own hand moves faster and faster and he's coming, and keening, and there's come on his fingers, on his stomach and on Bucky's stomach, too.

"Please, Bucky, please - " Like maybe Bucky will answer him, too, and Steve is wracked with shudders, and maybe he's lost his mind a little but he needs Bucky to come inside him, though he’s not sure how to bear it.

Yet, he manages when Bucky comes, pressing himself to Steve so close that Steve wonders for a moment if they're not going to melt together, fused to one another and unable to ever let go. Bucky shudders and sighs and moans and kisses Steve's shoulder, licks at the sweat there, mumbles incoherences Steve doesn't understand until Bucky pulls back, pressing his nose against Steve's, his eyes halfway open.

"You're going to be the death of me, Steve Rogers." 

Steve is still shuddering and now his arms are wrapped around Bucky's shoulders and he's kissing him like his life depends on it, and maybe it does, and he pushes Bucky down onto the bed.

"Not if you kill me first, James Barnes," says Steve, mouthing at the side of Bucky's neck. He lets out a quiet whimper, echoed by Bucky, when they disengage and Bucky's not inside Steve anymore which makes him irrationally unhappy, even though they're on a bed and it's not been a fast fuck against a wall, and maybe they're cuddling now but he can't tell. He sighs, a little displeased and somehow not surprised, when Bucky wriggles out from under him but he's back within moments, with a warm, damp cloth and Steve is not used to this level of consideration (not from this man).

"Look at you, Steve," says Bucky, and he's wiping Steve's stomach and, wow, his chest, too, and he's wiping himself and then lowering himself onto Steve, his head resting on Steve's shoulder and his breath tickling Steve's throat.

Steve finds himself with his fingers tangled in Bucky's hair, looking up at the ceiling. He doesn't want to move. He’s too comfortable and mellow and the mattress is soft and inviting. He doesn't really know what to say. He doesn’t really know if there is anything to say, because they haven't done this before and this is Bucky heavy on Steve's chest, breathing contentedly. This is new.

"Stop thinking, Steve."

"What?"

"I can hear the cogs whirring from here. Stop."

"Sorry, I - um."

"You're freaking out, aren't you? You're all tense, like you're ready to bolt. D'you wanna leave? Not stopping you, but I'm curious if that's where we're going."

Steve swallows. "Where we're -" He pauses. "Where are we going, Buck?" His fingers tighten in Bucky's hair and, for no discernible reason, Steve move just enough to press a kiss to Bucky's temple. After everything they've done (they're _cuddling_ , he has decided), he wonders if that's crossing a line.

Bucky shifts against him, his fingers idling up and down Steve's stomach. "Do you want to go, Steve?" he asks. Steve thinks this might be a trick question but he's nothing if not heart-breakingly honest. He shakes his head and then realises Bucky probably can't see that. "I want to stay," he says.

Bucky digs his chin into Steve's chest as he shifts a little. He aims an open-mouthed kiss somewhere over Steve's collarbone. "Good." He sounds rather satisfied and now his fingers are scritching gently over the sparse hair on Steve's lower abdomen. "Our label says we have to be single. Or, you know, appear to be available. 's part of the package they're trying to sell."

Steve, suddenly, can't move; he couldn't leave now, even if he wanted to. Bucky's words have frozen him solid. This is the _but_ (you're a great guy, Steve, but -). 

"I told them to fuck off," says Bucky. "I'm not gonna pretend to be single."

And now Steve can't breathe. He's become something useless, powerless. He licks his lips. "Uh. You're not - single?" 

"Not if I'm with you."

"Oh." The way Bucky sounds, confident but not cocky; it makes Steve suddenly smile to himself. "Oh, right."

"What do you say?"

"Well, wouldn't want you to be sticking it to the man with no backup."

Bucky grins, the two of them staring at each other for a moment before bursting out laughing, something desperate, something a little delirious in the way they cling to each other. 

Steve kisses Bucky because it seems a good way to seal the deal, when they're not so hot on talking. 

"So what're you gonna say, if anyone asks?" Bucky hums against Steve's mouth and he's smiling and Steve is captivated. "That I've got a hot blonde waiting for me at home?" 

Steve laughs because it's all he can do, and maybe it'll drown out the way his heart is thundering so fast, and he grabs a pillow and clouts Bucky over the head with it. "I'm not your damned war bride, Bucky." 

"You mean you're not gonna wave me off with a tear-stained handkerchief?" 

Bucky pins Steve down and Steve lets him and smiles up at him. 

"Just. C'mere and give me a kiss, soldier." 

Bucky obliges.

\----

**__**

****

ALL-AMERICAN HERO: Steve Rogers talks music, friendship and doing the right thing.

_Arc Reactor Records’ latest signing, Stark Industries, is made up of a motley crew of undoubtedly talented men, but their rehearsals are said to be heated affairs, with at least one band member storming out each day._

_“Aw, that’s an exaggeration,” says Steve Rogers, Stark Industries' handsome frontman. “We all have bad days, sure, but we’ve had plenty of good days and since signing for Arc Reactor, I think we can safely say we’ve all calmed down some.”_

_It doesn’t seem all that likely that Rogers was ever much of a hell-raiser but fortunately Clint Barton, Stark Industries' lead guitarist is on hand to disabuse us of that notion._

_“Steve? Oh god, Steve’s a real loose cannon. Yeah, totally. That one night? He totally cheated at Scrabble.” There’s a brief tussle between the two men and Rogers is almost successful in clamping his hand over Barton’s mouth but Barton, it seems, is not above playing dirty. One bitten hand later, Barton wipes his mouth. “No, seriously. Using Russian words is cheating.”_

_When asked how they feel about touring with the old enemy, Rogers just shrugs. “We respect Red Room. They’ve really paved the way for bands like us.”_

_And, yes, it is apparently true that Red Room got Stark Industries some of their early gigs and our publication would dearly love footage from the legendary wedding at which Virginia Potts, of ARR, signed Stark Industries on the spot._

_“Oh, man. All footage from that wedding’s been erased,” says Barton, with an impressive poker face._

_“Yeah, even the video of the ceremony,” adds Rogers, equally mischievous. “All mysteriously vanished.”_

_So the rumours of Stark Industries singing an Enrique Iglesias song?_

_“Entirely unfounded,” says Barton._

_Rogers, it must be noted, goes rather pink and looks away._

_“Weddings are great, though,” says Barton. “I met my husband at a wedding but they say that’s what happens, right?”_

_Rogers' eyelid appears to be twitching but he just offers a wide smile, guaranteed to make even the hardest heart melt. “Weddings are good,” he says. “If you pick the right band.”_

_On that note, we advise our readers that Stark Industries’ first album,_ War Machine _is available for download on iTunes and at all good record stores._


End file.
